Guilt By Association
by KamirineGoddess
Summary: ‘You Never Know What You Had Until You Loose It’. That was something Draco Malfoy certainly never excepted to apply to him after he broke things off with Harry. But now that Harry’s moving on and well, hate’s his guts again... FSumInside, HarryxDraco
1. Prologue: I’m Not Such a Great Best

**Author's Notes:  
**I'm not really sure why I decided to write this, but it just came to me out of no where and I couldn't help butwrite it. So I really hope you enjoy the first chapter and please leave feedback as it helps me know if I'm doing it right._ :Bows and hugs Harry plushie: _Enjoy!_ :huggles:_ Oh: and Sirius never died and HBP never happened. The world just seems a happier place this way...

**Disclaimer:  
**I can cry scream and beg but in the end, I still don't own Harry Potter or any of it characters, nor do I make any money from them.

**Summary:  
**'_You Never Know What You Had Until You Loose It'_.That was something Draco Malfoy certainly never excepted to apply to him after he broke things off with Harry. But now that Harry's moving on and well, hate's his guts again, will he be able to get his would be soul mate back from the clutches of his best friend? And still keep his sanity as he gets a little help from Pansy, a certain 'mudblood', a certain reluctant 'weasel' & oh yes: and meddling professors?

**Pairings:  
**Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, Blaise/Harry, Seamus/Dean, Sirius/Lupin/Severus** (So far.)**

**Warning:  
**Strong Sexual Content, A wee bit of OOC (Actually, I'm hoping there isn't but I'm not entirely sure so just in case), **Not** _Beta Read_ as of yet, **SLASH** (Man/Man relations, you don't like, please don't read!), eventually Violence, language, dark themes, Blaise being a complete hateful bastard later one, fluff, romance, and anything else I can think of that might scare you away. But you all look pretty brave–after all you clicked on the story so read on!

_**Guilt By Association  
**_**Prologue:**_ I'm Not Such a Great Best Friend...Maybe_

_(Ronald Weasley's POV)_

It was one of those moments where "It seemed like a good idea at the time". One of those moments where that little voice in the back of your head keeps nagging at you to do something–to make things right– But then your own selfish desires–no matter what they may be–seems to take a broom handle and proceeds to beat the living shit–excuse my language–out of said little man until he shuts up.

You know, where everything that's going on seems to be happening in slow motion; you can barely believe what you're seeing in front of you yet you already knew exactly what it was in some weird way as it's happening though you don't quite want to believe it because–in my case–you're surprised you were right?

Yeah, that's the best way to describe a moment like this one–though maybe I should start from the beginning. Waaaay back at the beginning.

See, Harry Potter–the 'Boy Who Lived', 'The Chosen One', 'Golden Boy of Gryffindor'...he goes by all those titles though you should know he doesn't like any of them really– had nearly been killed in the beginning of our sixth year by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. (He always saying I should say his real name but I just don't...want to.)

It turns out that he ('He' being the You Know Who) found out that the greasy git Snape had been spying, as suspected, for the Order of the Phoenix and he sent word to Albus Dumbledore that he well–knew it. Harry found out about this, via spying in on the emergency meeting the Order called, and he'd gone to save the professor alone–even after what I felt was a good argument to why we should let Snape...uh...stay captured.

...What? _What_! You would have done it too and you _know_ it...

Well anyway, Harry went and they'd both returned a few hours later while everyone that knew sat on pins and needles.

The professor was in pretty bad shape but alive and Harry had a single broken arm and few cracked ribs. It was quite a sight and I'd never seen so many people upset: Harry's godfather practically snatched him into a fatherly hug, (he and Lupin came for the emergency meeting–at least **_he_** understood my reasoning, Snuffles practically made the same argument...) screaming at Harry for scaring him and being stupid while Dumbledore along with Lupin took care of Snape, ushering him up to the Infirmary while Sirius–who picked up Harry and slung him over his shoulder, followed closely behind them, still barking at how stupid and careless and how he was too much like James he was.

It took Harry a few days to get better but we didn't have Potions with Snape for two entire weeks. (And hey, I didn't complain...) When we finally did see him again, it was when we all gathered into the Great Hall a whole hour earlier than normal before our evening meals.

Dumbledore had an entire meeting with the school then about this little problem we had called 'House Unity' and the woes of the Dark Lord. (Maybe he forgot half of Slytherin House had children with parents that were Death Eaters because I would think that would have a lot to do with the whole 'Not having house unity thing'...)

In the end, he emphasized how important it was that we all–instead of acting like separate houses–try to find a co-existence, understanding and act as one equal house for now was the time–blah blah blah. Okay, to tell you the truth, I stopped paying attention by this point but damn it, I was _hungry_!

I only zoned back in when he mentioned that he wanted to get the ball rolling with a few choice activities, one being a dance: the prefects from each house would be paired off into two committees and prepare the dance. I hadn't thought that was too bad, considering we could always pair off with Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff house but Dumbledore, seeming to read my mind (who knows, he probably did cause Harry told me that he was really good at doing it and so was Snape...), announced that he'd already chosen the groups and sure enough, Gryffindor was with Slytherin.

That had been...stupid, to say the least.

By the end of that week, I'd lost over two hundred points for my house and gathered two weeks worth of detentions all by myself. Meanwhile Hermione Granger, practically legendary for being as gifted at the school already, had actually managed to make some sort of friendship with Pansy 'pugface' Parkingson. Eww.

Nevertheless, the night of the dance seemed perfect: everyone was in their finest dress robes, setting up dates, ready to have a bloody good time. Until Dumbledore took the center stage again and made yet another devastating announcement: that we were _not _permitted to dance with any person(s) from our own houses: that Slytherins could only dance with Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, with Hufflepuffs.

Well naturally, this went over well. I myself screamed that it was cruel and unusual punishment and even tried to reason that there were no pretty girls_ on_ Slytherin to dance with (I think Hermione scowled at me but I can't be sure) but Dumbledore would hear none of it and stated that any persons caught on the floor without a dance partner or one from a house he hadn't designated would face the consequences.

So the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws filled the floor while the Slytherins and we Gryffindors hugged the wall, facing one another and scowling. This had gone on for well over an hour I think, and both sides seemed down right miserable.

The professors stared at each side in a disapproving manner (Well Snape didn't seem to care really), but no one from either house moved. The older years wouldn't dare make the first move out of sheer pride for their house and the younger years were to busy following the suit of the older years to try anything remotely stupid.

Then finally: someone made the first move.

A Gryffindor, not surprisingly, because we were, after all, known for our bravery. Though it did surprise me that it had been Harry that strolled almost nonchalantly to the other side of the room, everyone on the dance floor from the two remaining houses pausing to watch while he, head held high, made his way to a certain platinum haired blond who sneered from ear to ear at him while his little cronies snickered and laughed at Harry's boldness.

Harry asked him to dance and Malfoy said no–okay, between insulting Harry, a no was in there somewhere, I'm sure. Big surprise there.

But Harry never missed a beat and smirked at him, whipping the cocky sneer straight from Malfoy's lips as he all but challenged him in front of everyone, calling him a coward no less.

Malfoy didn't take this too well and to the gasp and awe (and let's face it, disgust) of many of us, they took to the dance floor which seemed to just empty out as they reached the center.

A song started up and to be honest, it was actually pretty funny: at first they both were trying hard to lead and argued the entire time but soon, complete with Harry just down right stomping on Malfoy's foot on purpose with the blond collapsing to the ground in agony and in turn, kicking Harry I hard in the leg and brining him down as well.

But after they got over what Hermione called 'immaturity' and what I called 'good fun', Malfoy finally won lead and had put on quite a show: taking a rose into his mouth and dancing rather...suggestively (we could have done without it, really) and Harry soon followed suit. The dance had ended with Draco dipping Harry deeply, their bodies flushed together with their faces inches apart from one another, both panting lightly, eyes blazing into the other–seeming to forget that the rest of us were here.

No body moved or said a word. Just watched, probably wondering, just like I was, what the hell that was all about, though no one sported a 'What the Fuck' type expression like I did, I'm sure.

Well after this scary moment in time, Hermione and Pansy–now seemingly best friends (I still find that creepy) decided that they just _had_ to get the two together, seeming as there was far too much friction between them–blah blah. (Hermione tried explaining it to me but I zoned out after the line "Placing Harry and Draco together...".)

And it worked. Within a few well planned months, they were the talk of the school: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were an official item, much to my dismay.

So I stopped talking to Harry after I found out–well okay, for like two weeks. But then, I realized–or rather Hermione beat to the point that I realized–that I was being petty, immature and should be above things like Draco Malfoy and it shouldn't stop the friendship I have with Harry. Or at least, that what she told me and I after I while, I think I believed it. Sort of–but I did still want to be Harry's friend so you know: whatever.

So under the careful and watchful eye of Hermione, from then on, no matter how irritated I was that Harry was going out with that git, I was as supportive as I could have been–though I still didn't speak to Harry two days after this because he said he thought I'd had a problem being gay.

Which I absolutely do not, bloody hell! I'm not that bad–sure I don't want to be found humping some guy but that doesn't mean I care if Harry does. Long as it's not me anyway. I just care that it's _Draco Malfoy–_is that a crime? Thought not.

I'm rambling so lets skip a few months ahead through time shall we?

You see, I wasn't the only one that didn't want Harry and Malfoy together, as I would have guessed, but Blaise seemed to be more than willing to do something about it instead of just sitting by and letting things take it's course.

So he set the wheels of what I'd like to call 'drama' in motion. I hadn't noticed it at first, the little glares he'd give the pair when they weren't looking or the odd little 'conversations' he'd have when he was alone with Harry. (I could careless what he said to Draco.)

Though after a while, Harry started coming to me for advice. He was having doubts about Malfoy, thinking he might be cheating or growing distant–something like that. I really couldn't–or didn't–contribute much but that Malfoy's a git, he deserved better then him and should just break things off with the blond, to which I got a slap over the head, courtesy of Hermione every time she heard me.

Once she'd told him not to worry about things, that it was all in his imagination, that he was practically crazy about Harry and that nothing or no one was coming between them. Harry accepted this answer and I–well–didn't but never said a word. No one was listening to me so why care right?

But a few weeks later, after coming back from a detention I'd received unfairly for hexing Goyle after getting very annoyed that he couldn't boil water properly, (I'd gotten stuck with that idiot for Final Exams when Hermione decided to work with Pansy while Harry of course, worked with that git Malfoy and Neville had surprisingly, been nabbed by Blaise...) I'd paused in the hall when I heard a very interesting conversation between a Slytherin and fellow Gryffindor.

Seamus was begging Blaise to keep a secret from Dean–his now boyfriend–and Blaise agreed–but only if he did a favor for him, which had something to do with pretending to be Harry for tomorrow night and going to meet with some Ravenclaw.

Seamus asked why but Blaise told him it was none of his affair, all he needed was to take a Polyjuice potion, add Harry's hair and act according to his plans tomorrow night. When Blaise had left, I followed the Irish prat then cornered Seamus just before he got to the portrait that let to the common room and asked a few questions. He did a horrible job of lying to me, asking me to just please stay out of things because I didn't understand.

And well, he was right: I didn't entirely. Though I kept my eye him the next day, even going so far as to skip a mandatory meeting of prefects for the last minutes preparations for yet, _another_ dance that was to be held at the end of this year, aka, tomorrow night. (You'd think we'd had enough stupid activities for the year, complete with a day playing muggle games. Though I gotta admit, Twister was really fun and I've got to convince Hermione to send me one of those handheld...game...things...)

That night, I stayed up as long as I could, staking out our room, watching for Seamus to leave and do whatever it was he was suppose to as Harry so I could follow but the boy stayed in bed the entire time and by two in the morning well hell–I fell sleep.

And when I woke up, Seamus was there in his bed just as I'd seen him the night before.

So I didn't think to much about what I'd heard or even what I'd myself noticed, not even the when Harry told Hermione and I in a worried kind of way at lunch that he hadn't seen Draco in any of our shared classes all days. I hadn't noticed Malfoy was missing–not that I cared–but now that I did know, I had to admit it had been a pleasant surprise.

Then at some point during the day, Blaise came over and gave Harry some sort of note from Draco, which simply told Harry to be ready for the dance and that they'd meet there. (I know cause I read it over his shoulder. I'm nosey, Hermione tells me so all the time.)

Which brings us to the present and very confusing times I like to call 'right now':

Which would be me having, for the second time at a dance, my 'What the Fuck' expression, directly once again, at the same two persons that had encouraged it the first time.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Harry snapped confused and I could tell that he was trying hard to keep his voice calm and steady though whether it was to keep it from sounding angry or to keep himself from crying, I couldn't be sure.

See, Malfoy had just arrived to the dance–an hour late–with someone else on his arm when Harry stormed over to them and began to argue with the blond about the now absent third party. You know, from that moment, I just knew this wasn't going to end on a good note...

Malfoy pretended to think for a minute, placing a thumb under his chin and rubbing it thoughtfully, his head tilted to the side and his eyes looking at the ceiling, muttering a light 'hmmm' before he hunched slightly placing his hands in his pockets and glaring at Harry, sneered at him.

"What can I say Potter, I've grown rather bored with you–and this little bet of mine," he replied matter of factly.

A few Slytherins snickered as Harry shook his head slightly seeming bewildered. "What..._bet_?"

Draco scuffed in amusement, seeming to enjoy whatever he was about to tell Harry greatly before he opened his big, overgrown mouth to explain himself in a smug manner:

"Just a little something I made with a few guys in my year, is all," he hunched slightly and said boys he must of made this 'bet' with began to snicker louder as stormy gray eyes stared directly into Harry's.

"See–Nott thought it would be something of a good time if I gave in to Granger and Parkingson's little 'plan' to put the two of us together. He seemed to think that while they could make the relationship, I wouldn't be able to maintain it, let alone get you in my bed."

Malfoy winked at him and his smirk widened. "But then, we both know how well I did there, don't we **_darling_**?"

Laughter now and Harry seemed to blush lightly but not back down by any means, still glaring at Draco with fist balled at his sides. I myself, still sported my 'WTF' expression before that quickly melted into anger and I rushed forward with Ginny grabbing my wrist and Neville doing the same with the other one to keep me from going forward and knocking the smirk straight off the blond's face.

"But let's face it Potter–you can only stay interesting for so long when you so _easily _give people what they want. And the bet was only to have you eating out of the palm of my hand and fucking you senseless into the mattress–which I think I've done successfully well, wouldn't _you_ agree?"

Harry's hurt was visible now and his entire body shook with rage but still he said not a word or better yet–beat the living hell of that cold hearted bastard.

Draco took note of this and sneered. "Don't be a drama queen about all this Potter. You didn't seem to worried about things last night with that ruddy Ravenclaw now did you? What do you do? Open your legs for the first bloke that strokes your thigh and says you're '_pretty_'?"

"Draco!" Pansy snapped finally, coming to Harry's side and glaring at her would be best friend simply horrified and for a brief moment, I couldn't help but wonder why none of the professors had stepped in yet before I remembered that they'd taken the night off and let us handle things on our own–yeah, that was _smart_. But in any case, Draco waved her off and took this moment to continue to glare at Harry in a hateful manner instead.

"You know, for a split moment Potter, I almost felt remote compassion for what I was doing to you–I might have let you down easier, anyway." Then he smirked again and took a few steps toward Harry, getting like, inches from his face before be continued in a calm, cold whisper. "But then again, being the lovable bastard that I am, I just _couldn't_ let my mates down–right? Besides, I think this was the perfect payback for what you've done to my father...not to mention I just get a kick out of bringing little weak minded fools like you beneath me, where they belong."

Harry closed his eyes and this time, Hermione surprising the hell out of me, went for the kill this time, going to far as the give a little war cry as she was about to bring the fury of scorned wome–er–lovers everywhere on Malfoy before she was stopped by several of girls from our year while Pansy shook her head at Draco, glaring in a disappointed and disgusted manner while she gently grabbing Harry's wrist and rubbing his back in small circles to try to calm him down.

Yet still, Harry didn't say a word or make a move to remotely beat Draco's face in. I think he was in shock. Draco watched him a moment longer before scuffing, rolling his eyes slightly and pushing past the two of them, his little cronies following with amused laughter as he muttered "Pathetic" and left for the dungeons, Pansy giving Harry one last sympathetic look before storming after him, screaming furiously while everyone around me shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to do.

Gin and Nev finally let go of me and I began to walk toward Harry quickly as I couldn't see all of Harry's face anymore: he had his head down and his bangs, a few inches longer now, did wonders to hid them from view.

"Hey mate," I said softly, touching him on the shoulder as Hermione tried to get him to talk to her between trying to calm herself down but within seconds, he'd pulled away from us both, snapping "Don't!" before storming out of the Great Hall and out of sight. Hermione went to go after him, as did I but Blaise stopped us both, giving a weak smile before saying "Let me go after him–house unity and all."and ran after him before either one of us could refuse.

I'll admit that I was dumbfounded for a few moments, everything that had happened in the last few hours, including the night before, playing in my head before a spotted a nervous looking Seamus by the punch bowl, alone, and thinking up an idea so quickly that it would have made Hermione proud, I made a beeline for him and before anyone could notice, pulled him behind a pillar and slammed him against the wall.

"Talk," I snapped.

He stumbled over his words but I pressed him up against the wall harder, giving him a meaningful glare of "I _will_ hurt you" before he adverted his gaze from mine and I continued. "Come on Seamus, I know you had something to do with what just happened–talk!"

"...You can't tell Dean," he whispered and I gave him a skeptical look but didn't say anything. Upon realizing I wasn't going to say a word, he continued. "We went out–Dean and I cause Neville invited us–out for drinks, you know? No harm done. Well I think I had one to many or I thought I had cause I landed myself in bed. With Neville."

"**_What_**!" I snapped angrily–cause you know, Neville just happens to be going out with my_ little sister_, the git–and he cringed, putting his hands up like I might strike him. "We got_ tricked_!" He cried quickly. "By Blaise! He convinced Neville during Potions to have a round with him and his friends and to bring us with him and he did–we did–and then we just **_did_**! Dean doesn't know yet and neither does Ginny–"

"She will," I snapped and he cringed again.

"B-but Blaise knew. He had proof and everything. And I mean, I'm sorry Ron but I was _stuck_! I couldn't prove that he'd set us up–"

"You didn't give Dean or my sister enough credit to think they might believe you?" I snapped, thinking I sounded a bit more mature than normal. But then hey, that's what growing up does, I guess.

He looked guilty. "I had to make sure he didn't' find out," he muttered, completely ignoring what I'd just said. "So he told me to take a Polyjuice Potion–pretend to be Harry–and c-cheat on Draco. And he made sure that Draco saw us–I know because I caught him when he came in but–"

"Why'd he want to do that Seamus, did he ever tell you?" I cut him off, feeling disgusted with him. He shook his head. "Said it was none of my business, that–hey where are you–!"

I'd heard enough. I stormed out of the Great Hall, ignoring Hermione's calls for me to come to her and made my way through the castle and outside, though why I'd just known to go there, was beyond me.

I found them a few minutes later, Harry upset, tears streaming down his face but not sobbing with Blaise rubbing his back in a comforting manner, trying to calm him down. I took this moment to hide behind a very large tree close by that was surrounded by bushes at the base of the trunk–a nice hiding spot.

"...a fool," I heard Harry mutter and Blaise gave a light smirk Harry couldn't see while he shook his head and muttered "You're wrong Potter. Draco's the fool. He doesn't know what he had–he never does."

I watched as his eyes seemed to darken before he continued. "He didn't know how good he had it–how good he always has it–so he just takes it for granted. He's a selfish bastard that doesn't give a rats ass about anyone else or their feelings yet seems to think he should be pitied if things goes bad for him. I told him not to do it–I told him not to hurt you, but–"

"You knew?" Harry snapped, pulling away from him and Blaise nodded curtly. "Sort of. Bits and pieces of conversations he had with Vin and Greg but nothing concrete. I just cornered him one day and told him not to mess things up but he didn't seemed...concerned. After what he saw last night though," he took this moment to look at Harry in almost an accusing manner. "He seemed to look forward to telling you truth. He went so far as to avoid classes today so he wouldn't tell you beforehand, he was so anxious."

Harry looked down at his hands then, watching them ball up into fist before letting out a loud cry of anger, he let it crash into the tree behind them, knocking a few little twigs and leaves down and fluttering to the ground, Blaise simply raising an eyebrow at him as he watched with caution while Harry stood to his feet, fist still balled.

"How could I have _been_ so _stupid_?" Harry snapped, talking to himself and I couldn't help but nod in agreement. He had been stupid–even more than Hermione accuses me of. "I should have known Dra–Malfoy would never_ change_."

Blaise only agreed silently, nodding slightly as Harry continued his rant. "I knew he was growing distant–I told Hermione and Ron I thought something was up–damn it, why didn't I listen to Ron?"

Had circumstances been different, I would have been proud–maybe even done a dance– to hear that Harry thought he should have listened to me more than Hermione. I did take a note of what he said and tucked it away to wave in her face for later though but right now, I was trying to concentrate and listen in.

"Because listening to Weasley isn't wise," Blaise asked matter of factly and I glared at him, as did Harry and in turn (well to Harry's glare) he put his hands up in a surrendering manner. "Or because you were too head over heels in love and too blind to see when someone was trying to help you out of a bad situation because you didn't want to listen?"

Much better. Thank you Blaise–though your still a git.

Harry let out a frustrated snort before he plopped back down to a sitting position beside the Italian. Blaise simply looked over at him. "Look–Draco's good at manipulating others, don't feel so bad Potter."

"I knew better," Harry pointed out and again, I nodded. He did.

"But you also can't control how your heart will react to–good god I sound like some sappy Gryffindor," Blaise snorted before chuckling to himself and rolling his eyes. Then without warning, he took Harry's face in his hands, pecking him in a–I dunno–friendly gesture, his lips lingering on Harry's for a minute before he pulled back and smiled down at him, their foreheads meeting while Harry stared back at him bewildered.

And that's when it dawned on me. Blaise hadn't been in love with Draco. He'd somehow fallen for**_ Harry_**.

"Fuck Draco. He's a bastard. He's always been a bastard. You knew that from the start and for that alone, you should feel stupid Potter. I'm not saying you deserved what you got–but really, sleeping with someone else–"

"I didn't sleep with anyone else, damn it," Harry snapped angrily pulling his face away before Blaise brought it back to him. "Okay whatever, either way–stop sitting here, acting like some love sick woman, get off your ass and get over it. Or do it soon because I'm already sick of seeing you mope–it's unnerving."

He tilted his head to the side and gave Harry a smirk–you know, I'm beginning to wonder if Slytherins can't actually 'smile' only 'smirk' since that seems to be a trademark with all of them...

"I'm here for you Potter–to talk to or whatever it is you Gryffindor's do when you're dumped. Slytherin's honor."

Yeah–like _that's_ worth anything.

Harry glared at him a moment before shaking his head, taking his words for what they were and giving him a grateful smile before he finally pulled away from that bastard, leaning back up against the tree and muttering bluntly "Thanks–but you have a dance to get back to. I don't want to keep you away any longer than I have."

Blaise quirked up an eyebrow. "I'm here to comfort you and you're worried about my time at a dance?"

"I'll be alright," Harry insisted though his tone certainly didn't match the words. He turned to face Blaise, putting on the phoniest smile I'd seen since Fred and George tried to convince my mom they weren't responsible for Percy being stuck in the oven for three days. "I just need some time alone, to think. I'm fine. Go enjoy yourself."

Blaise frowned at Harry, glaring at him seriously then. "You're not going to go and try drowning yourself, right Potter?"

Harry laughed–a little bitterly–at this before shaking his head. "It takes a lot more then some bloke breaking up with me to get me to try and kill myself. And call me Harry. We're practically friends now."

Blaise thought about this and nodded, seeming pleased. "Yeah, we are." He got up to his feet then, and as he began to walk off toward the castle, paused before sighing and sitting back down with Harry, my best friend glaring up at him confused. Blaise hunched.

"My date will understand–we're not an item or anything. Besides...as you said, we _are_ friends and you're in need, whether you want it or not. So I shall stubbornly stay by your side until I'm convinced you're actually feeling better–not all Slytherins are cold hearted, contrary to popular Gyrffindor lore.. And don't bother trying to talk me out of it," he added, holding up his hand when Harry went to protest. "My mind is made up. And Slytherins can be very stubborn Harry." He glared at him. "_Very_ stubborn."

Harry gave a defeated sigh and Blaise smirked, getting comforable as he leaned back on the tree, the pair now in silence as they looked at the large lake, a tentacle from the giant squid just breaking through the surface before ducking back into the icy depths again.

And here I am, spying, hiding behind a tree not so far away, my mind practically dizzy from what I should do now that I'd pieced everything together: Draco was only playing Harry from the start, Blaise figured it out so just fast forward the whole breaking up process that was do to come anyway by blackmailing Seamus and now he's trying to get Harry on the rebound.

Right. See. I can be Hermione when I want.

Now this is the part where I should have come out of my hiding spot, becoming a knight in golden armor (I would have said silver but our secondary colors are gold...) and telling Harry the truth about what Blaise had done and thus, getting both manipulative serpents out in the open.

But instead, I simply stood upright and as slowly and quietly as I could, began my walk back to the castle.

In a weird way, I felt like I was somehow betraying Harry even if I technically had no part in any of this. But even still, I wasn't going to tell him. Why should I? Certainly what Blaise did to Seamus was wrong but in a odd, twisted little way, even if it was for his own personal gain, he'd done it for a great reason.

Besides, I'd said it all along: Harry deserved better. He didn't need Malfoy–he shouldn't be with Malfoy.

Though deep down, I really didn't think Blaise was any better. But I had to choose between the lesser of two evils here. And for me, that was Blaise.

And right now, I was making myself far more interested in hexing the hell out of a certain Neville Longbottom–even if it wasn't his fault he'd slept with Seamus...

* * *

**Author's Notes:  
**_Thanks for reading so far and and please leave feedback if you'd like. :Bows:_


	2. Chapter One: The Best Thing About Denial

**Author's Notes:**  
Thanks for the reviews and reading. Though in reguards to a review: I hadn't even thought of Blaise sleeping with Harry to be honest. I don't want to say too much because it will give the entire plot away but don't worry, as for now (unless I can think of a great reason why) Blaise won't sleep with Harry, at the very least. :winks:

_**Guilt by Association  
**_**Chapter One:** _The Best Thing About Denial is You Never Have to Admit Anything_

**From the POV of Draco Malfoy**

I slumped back in the comfy chair, tilting my head back as far as it could go and holding the cloth to my cheek, grimacing at the pain before I shot the mudblood a cold glare. I hadn't called her that, verbally or mentally, in a long time since I was going out with that slut Potter– but considering things were going 'back to normal' with Potter and myself, I figured it might as well go back to normal with Granger as well.

She all but ignored me, her head held high as she kept her gaze on the headmaster sitting before us behind the desk, glancing from her to me with disapproval, a light frown on his face. McGongall stood beside Granger, a hand on her shoulder as she spoke to her softly while Severus stood by mine, not speaking a word but seeming just as irritated with the whole situation as I was.

For those who are in the dark about what exactly is going on I'll start a little ways back:

I broke up with that slut Potter the night before and retreated to the comforts of my common room soon after. I got bored with said situation: the guys had gone back to the dance, still prattling on about how great a joke I pulled on Potter so as alone lounging on the leather couch, utterly bored, until in comes Pansy, and her incessant rambling.

The girl was practically my best friend (We'd given up being in a romantic relation way back at the end of fourth year when I realized I didn't exactly 'fancy' girls.)and yet, hear I am, her voice coming a dull pain in my head as I tired my best to simply tune her as she went on and on about "Potter this" and "How could I do that", complete with hand gestures.

I eventually just got up and stormed out of the Common Room–and I might add, she was so busy fussing at me she failed to notice I was abandoning her– and somehow ended up outside.

I thought about going to the Quidditch Pitch–Potter's not the only one that finds comfort in flying–but instead, I ended up going by the lake after spotting Weasel storming past me, not even noticing my presence.

Idiot.

From my hiding spot, I saw him crouch behind a tree where he was watching a pair that sat under another one, larger than his, close to the lake. Wanting to know what was so damn interesting about the couple– to Weasel that is– I moved up a bit more, being careful not to be spotted by any of the parties involved.

By the time I was done, I was hiding behind a tree close to Weasel but out of sight and close enough to see the couple for myself. Upon recognition, I sneered.

Potter. And he was with Blaise.

Wait. Blaise? What the fuck was Potter doing with my best friend? Or better yet, what was my best friend doing with that slut.

"...a bastard. He's always been a bastard. You knew that from the start and for that alone, you should feel stupid Potter. I'm not saying you deserved what you got–but really, sleeping with someone else–"

"I didn't sleep with anyone else, damn it," I heard Harry snap so angrily that I saw a spark of hatred flare in those emerald eyes of his before pulling his face away from Blaise and I snorted. Did Potter just think Blaise would believe him after what he saw–after what we saw? He must have thought we were as dense as Weasel–though who the hell does Blaise think he's calling a bastard?

I watched as Blaise brought it back his face back into his hands and pulled it close to his own. "Okay whatever," he replied amused. "Either way–stop sitting here, acting like some love sick woman, get off your ass and get over it. Or do it soon because I'm already sick of seeing you mope–it's unnerving."

I watched Blaise tilt his head a bit and smirk at Potter and my sneer deepened. What the fuck did he think he was doing with my–with Potter anyway? Why the hell was he comforting that sniveling little bastard? He knew what I was going to do–he was sitting right there when Nott brought the whole scenario up. Hell, he was the one that put it in bet form–not to mention we both saw how much of a slut Potter is just last night.

I was seething but gained control of myself–after all, it wouldn't do to become so ruffled over something as insignificant as Potter's antics, or Zabini's for that matter. Not to mention I was missing out on what the little traitor was saying.

"I'm here to comfort you and you're worried about my time at a dance?" I heard Blaise mutter softly.

"I'll be alright," Potter insisted though he sounded less than convincing–I'm sure even Weasel could sense he was lying. He turned to face Blaise, putting on an even less convincing smile before continuing. "I just need some time alone, to think. I'm fine. Go enjoy yourself."

I watched Blaise frown at Harry, glaring at him seriously then. "You're not going to go and try drowning yourself, right Potter?"

A light smirk graced my lips at the thought I could cause Potter so much distress.

But the little bastard laughed while he shook his head. "It takes a lot more then some bloke breaking up with me to get me to try and kill myself. And call me Harry. We're practically friends now."

My eyes became slits as I glared at the unruly haired Gryffindor. He dare refer to me as 'some bloke'. I–Draco Malfoy–and not s_ome bloke_. And he was getting friendly with my best friend no less. I was busy contemplating in my thoughts I completely missed what Blaise said next before he got to his feet and started walking towards the castle.

I myself, straightened up, dusting off my pants before and making sure my appearance was presentable before I began to remove myself from my hiding spot, thinking I would follow Blaise and question his motives, whatever those may be.

But instead, I was dismayed to see him turn around, surprising Potter.

"My date will understand–we're not an item or anything," he started and I glared at him. What date? Blaise had made sure he didn't have a date...

"Besides...as you said, we _are_ friends and you're in need, whether you want it or not. So I shall stubbornly stay by your side until I'm convinced you're actually feeling better–not all Slytherins are cold hearted, contrary to popular Gyrffindor lore.. And don't bother trying to talk me out of it," he added, holding up his hand when it looked like Potter would protest. "My mind is made up. And Slytherins can be very stubborn Harry." Blaise glared at him seriously then. "_Very_ stubborn."

Potter looked as though he might try protesting again but instead, made himself comfortable against the tree while Blaise did the same, though neither said anything more.

My felt my eye twitch slightly as I continued to watch them before I saw a flash of red move out of the corner of my eye. I looked up to see the towering red head waltz past me again, still not noticing my presence as he grumbled "I shouldn't tell Harry. Won't make a difference–he's better off without ferret face anyway..." before he was too far away for me to hear anymore.

My eyes narrowed. Now I've known weasel enough to know the 'nickname' he's given him by now. (Weasel just can't come up with an original thought...) However, I would only be lying if I said I wasn't interested in what he had to say–scary isn't it? Being interested in anything that moron has to say.

But I would like to know what he isn't suppose to tell Har–Potter and why this has anything to do with me.

So naturally, I decided to simply ask.

The next day–or today and earlier this morning to be exact, I was far to annoyed to bother with Weasel and his lack of brain cells.

So I sat in the Great Hall, awaiting the arrival of the infamous trio, ignoring my seething anger that Zabini didn't return last night (we share the same dorm) until four in the morning. Now that I think about it, I was seething through most of this...

In any case, it wasn't that I cared he was gone so long–I knew that he was with my–with Potter.

And the sneaky little bastard wasn't sharing any information either. "Why should you care Drake?" he snapped sleepily before we left for breakfast or his recent "Don't you think Harry is no longer your concern?"

Harry. _Harry! _When the HELL is he allowed to call Potter 'Harry'! Oh wait. Last night. So help me, if he touched Har–Potter in anyway, I'll twist his balls off–without magic...

In any case, as Malfoy's are not suppose to ramble (or seething with anger but the latter would not subside so I decided that it would be ill-mannered to do both...), The Golden Trio made their appearance and half of the room got quiet once Potter strolled in.

He looked–sleepy. Sleepy but otherwise his same ole annoying Boy-Who-Couldn't-Fucking-Be-Bothered-with-Normal-Society self. I felt a spark of irritation course through my system as he looked over at my table, looked right through _me_ and sent a friendly smile to _Zabini_ who had the _bloody_ nerve to return it.

Do you see how much these people upset me so early in the morning! Bloody! I **never **say bloody! Words such as those in this type of meaning are used by classless dirt like Weaselys.

And how dare Harry not be devastated I broke up with him! I was suppose to break his heart–he wasn't suppose to live without me! He was suppose to drop to his knees, burst into tears and come crawling his scrawny ass toward me begging and pleading for me to take him back, damn it!

Instead he's yawning and taking a seat, already investing his time in full blown conversations with the rest of his pathetic house as if nothing happened–as if I never happened!

I glared at Blaise after this. "What did you do?" I snarled and he looked up, not at me, from his plate of pancakes and bacon with a look that said 'I could have sworn someone was just bitching at me' before looking over at me with his trademark annoyed, sleepy expression. (Or at least it was for the morning.)

"When?" he murmured and I glared so coldly at him that he raised an eyebrow. "You know what the hell I'm talking about Blaise," I snapped nastily and this got the attention to everyone sitting close to us–Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott–the usual.

"If I knew what you were talking about half the time Drake, my world would be a headache free place, don't you think?" he replied in causal sarcasm.

In a random act of violence–it's frowned upon but even a Malfoy can slip when spiraling into an all knew dimension of pissed off–I grabbed the collar of his shirt roughly with one hand and pulled him very close to my face so that only he could hear what I needed to say.

"What the hell did you do with Potter?" I whispered through clutched teeth.

Blaise smirked. "Sure you don't mean 'to'?"

If my eye had started twitching, I was going to hit him. I swear I was.

"Stay away from Potter," I snapped in a warning tone and he chuckled softly. "And we're back to where we started: why the hell should I do that? He doesn't _mean_ anything to you, remember?"

I wasn't going to get any straight answers from Blaise. He's Blaise. So I released him, feeling the friction that seemed to have enveloped that part of the table degenerate as I abruptly stood to my feet and stormed around my table, heading toward the Gryffindor table right beside us, which as I failed to notice at the time, became deathly silent along with the rest of the hall as I came to stand right behind Har–damn it–_Potter_.

Okay, to my defense, I was only standing behind _Potter_ because Weasley was right in front of him and I want to already be facing him–while being out of reach, as the idiot had a short temper of sorts. Or at least he did, when it came to me.

The entire golden trio looked up at me, Weasel scowling at me as usual, Mudblood, who was right beside Potter to my left, glaring at me with as much seething anger as I felt at me (I should have remembered that look from third year...)and finally, Potter was glancing up at me with a lazy bored expression like he couldn't possibly be bothered with me–which in turn, pissed me off all over again.

All I did was open my mouth_–open my **m-o-u-t-h**_–to say something to Weasley and before I could blink, Granger had gotten to her feet and without warning, sucker punched me for the second time in my life, casing me to land unceremoniously on my ass, grabbing my face in pain.

I could hear the Gryffindor table erupt in cheering applause as Professor Dumbledore called for silence and order, a pair of hands helping me to my feet.

We–being Granger and I–were escorted by Dumbledore out of the Great Hall shortly after and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Gryffindor table (after being screamed at by McGongall) finally settling down (apparently, a few of them thought me getting punched in the face deserved a standing ovation.)a few still hooping and hollering like a butch of idiots and shouting things like "Way to go Hermione!" or "Nice right hook!"

A little further of a back glance and I saw Weasel was positively beaming with pride while Potter was shaking his head, laughing softly at her antic.

I would have seethed again but my face hurt. I swear if this leaves a bruise, I'm killing the mudblood in her sleep. Slowly.

We were taken to Dumbledore's office and had to wait for breakfast to end in complete silence.

And this is were we are in my current situation.

"Now, Miss. Granger," the old fool began, turning his attention completely to her as she looked up from her lap and stared back. "Could you please explain to me Why you felt the need to punch Mr. Malfoy in the face this morning."

She at least had the sense to look guilty before she answered. "He was about to say something to Harry."

"Oh that's a _great_ reason to punch _anyone_ in the face," I snapped angrily, still holding my face. "Because someone wanted to speak to the precious Golden Boy of Gryffindor."

Dumbledore gave me a glare over his glasses and I felt my godfather squeeze my shoulders so I settled down. Granger looked over at me angrily and I unconsciously leaned back away from her. She _did _have a mean right hook and I wasn't looking forward to receiving it for a third time.

"Well after last nights little performance Malfoy, I don't want you anywhere_ near _Harry!" she snapped.

Both of our Head of Houses looked rather puzzled but Dumbledore simply nodded in a sad way before glancing at me again, letting me know instantly he already knew what I'd done last night whether he had been present for the event or not.

"Be that as it may Miss Granger, I must admit that I am deeply disappointed by **_your_** behavior," he frowned at her, and I couldn't help but notice the emphasis on the word 'your'. "Attacking other students–for any reason, whether it be a good one or bad one in your eyes–is still indeed wrong and I except better from you. You will be serving detention for the remainder of the year and I will take five points from Gyffindor House for you public display of violence."

_Five points! _I get punched in the face and he only gives her a nights worth of detention because we fuckin leave _tomorrow morning_–and five stupid points? He must think I **_deserved _**to get punched in the face for simply opening my mouth. You better believe my father _will _hear about this. The whole damn **ministry** will hear about _this_!

"With all due respect Headmaster, don't you think you're being a _little_ lenient on Miss Granger," my godfather frowned and I sighed in relief. At least **somebody** understood he was being unfair.

Dumbledore turned his pleasant gaze to Professor Snape. " That depends Severus my boy. If I take into account what Mr. Malfoy has done, I would say that the punishment is just right. And due keep in mind I have not–_yet_–punished him for his actions."

That sneaky old bastard! He's practically bribing us to let Granger get off!

He looked back at Granger and continued, not waiting for my godfather to object again. "Now Miss Granger, I except no trouble from you whatsoever for the remainder of the year." She nodded. "You are dismissed."

"Thank you sir," she all but beamed as she got out of her seat and began to gather her books as McGonagall began to explain her detention in a low voice. And then she gets to serve it with her own Head of House. I snorted as I leaned back in my seat. She was going to get study hall instead of detention, I was sure of it.

"And as for you Mr. Malfoy," the coot began, glaring at me in disappointment and disapproval. "I believe it would be wise to go to the infirmary and see about that wound you've sustained. I'd also advise you to stay away from Mrs. Granger–and her friends–for the remainder of the year so such instances as the one that accorded this morning and last night, will not repeat themselves."

I glared at him. He was politely asking me to stay away from Potter. Fine. No problem. I won't go near his wonder boy again–I've gotten what I wanted from the little scrawny brat after all.

...Right? Of course I have.

"You're free to leave," he replied a light twinkle in his blue eyes before he turned his attention to my godfather and began to have a conversation.

I got out of me seat and stormed out of his stupid office, taking to the stairs two at a time and waltzed past the gargoyle statue but paused to lean against the wall waiting for Granger to appear.

I didn't have to wait long for the bushy haired know it all to step out into the hall, shifting her books in her hand as the gargoyle slid back into place.

"Granger," I snapped and she glared over at me in a defiant manner. "Couldn't wait to retaliate Malfoy?" she spat coldly, shifting her books again.

"What's Weasel know that he doesn't want Potter to know in reference to me?" I snapped. Asking her was probably better than asking the source: Weasley told her everything and she was far more reliable.

She frowned at me confused. "What Malfoy?"

"The Weasel," I said a bit slower, hoping she could comprehend what I'm asking her. "What information is he keeping from Harry that has something to do with me?"

She scuffed. "Ron doesn't talk about _you_. If you hadn't noticed Malfoy, he doesn't even _like_ you."

"I"m aware of the fact Grange and trust me, the feeling is completely mutual," I sneered. "But I know Weasley is hiding something because I heard him talking about it." then I smirked. "To himself. Might want to tell your boyfriend that's not normal."

"Well neither is anyone seeing you fit to be in any type of an actual relationship," she retorted heatedly before storming away from me. I smirked and rolled my eyes. "Still sore about me breaking the heart of that slut Mudblood?"

That struck a nerve. Granger stopped dead in her tracks before she dropped all of her books, spinning around to glare at me as she stormed back toward me.

"Let me tell you something about that 'slut', Malfoy," she snapped hatefully, pointing her finger in my chest hard enough for it to sting and cause me to back up into a wall. "Harry could do anything–anything in the world–and he's_ still_ be a better person than you could **_ever_** be! "

"Hate to tarnish your oh-so-worshiping thoughts about the boy who lived," I sneered. "But Potters the one that cheated on _me_, not the other way around. I had every_ right_ to break up with him."

"For you to even remotely _think_ that Harry would cheat on you just goes to show how much of a low life you are!"

"I know what I saw," I snapped angrily–noting that she was too busy defending Potter to acknowledge me calling her a 'mudblood'. "The night before the dance, Potter was busy having himself fucked into–"

"The night before the dance, Harry wasn't even at **_Hogwarts_**," she snapped angrily, cutting me off. "The full moon was the night before...so he went to see about someone on Dumbledore's permission!"

I blinked at her. She must be talking about Remus Lupin. He was Har–Potter's second godfather and he used to be our DATDA professor in third year but Potter told me he resigned when Snape told everyone he was a werewolf.

I glared at her, feeling my anger finally begin to fade as I put a mild confused expression on face–though I still sneered.. "Wait–if Potter was with–"

"Oh, shut up Malfoy," she sighed, rolling her eyes and coming this close to my face. I couldn't help thinking she might try hitting me again...

"You only wanted to have an _excuse_ to break up with Harry so you could excuse your own fowl motives. I hate to say it, but Ron was completely right about fixing Harry up with you! Harry deserves better, he always has and he always will deserve better than you and if he spent a single moment feeling sorry for himself over a fowl, uncaring, egoistical little ferret like you, I'd hit Harry **myself**!"

With that, she turned on her heel, her bushy hair smacking me in the face before storming back over to her books to gather them quickly. I stood there, looking a bit dumbfounded before her sudden movement to walk further away from me snapped me out of it and I followed her.

"Granger! Wait a–"

"Malfoy, I don't give a damn what Ron knows about you, if has anything to do with you in regards to Harry, then maybe he _should_ keep it to himself," she retorted matter of factly, and I was taken aback–Granger rarely curses if ever– and I finally stopped in my pursuit, instead watching her storm off with a deep frown on my face.

I know what I saw. I **know **what_ we _saw. Granger had to be making things up, to protect Har–Potter.

Or...she could be right and the Po– alright damn it_ Harry_– I saw wasn't** my** Harry.

_My Harry_.

He was never **_my_** Harry–and he never would be. I had been planning to break up with him anyway–it had just been a joke from the start. There was no real emotion there, so what if it wasn't Harry I had seen? It's not things would have been different between the two of us. It would have ended the same way.

No I didn't care about the fact that I'd wanted to finally break things off with him when I'd seen him with someone else–I was going to do it anyway, really I was. It's the principle of the matter. That someone had the mere thought that they could cross me–a Malfoy–and get away with it.

And Weasley was my first suspect. He knew something that he obviously wasn't telling Granger or Harry–hell it wouldn't surprise me if the sneaky little muggle-lover had something to do with things in the first place–he never did like us together in the first place. And this entire thing with Zabini–I suspect he had some hand in this as well, perhaps teaming up with Weasley. It would explain why the dirty little sneak was hiding behind tries and spying on them–probably trying to make sure their plan went through.

I ran my hand absently through my hair as I strolled my way toward the dungeons. As of now, I didn't give a damn who had done it, but whomever had decided they would play with me would pay for it. Dearly.

Now all I had to do was figure out exactly who it was and what exactly they'd done, besides pretending to be Harry. And the best way to investigate anything just stormed off proclaiming she was proud I was no longer with Harry in the first place.

Which meant I'd have to go about a different method to earn Granger back in favor: Pansy.  
**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**Author's Notes:  
**_Okay, so the border line isn't working so I had to like, rig it up with 'o' instead. In any case, I hope you all enjoyed the new chapter! It won't stay in 1st person PoV for the entire thing, but a the first few might. Anyway, thanks for reading so far and please lead feedback. That enables me to feed the chibies. And everyone likes chibies. (And if not, I bribe with cookies. :winks: )_


	3. Chapter Two: No Sympathy for the Stupid

**Warning: **_Slash mentioned in this chapter but otherwise, pretty tame. Unless you count me not making Ron a complete idiot. Otherwise, enjoy the story!_

**Added August 30th, 2006:**  
_I just realized that my spell checker changed 'Malfoy' to 'Malloy'. (It thought the word was spelled wrong and if I change the word once, it does it automatically as I spell check the rest of the story.) Sorry about that! (Though I'm sure I have countless reviews telling me about this. Haven't read them yet. )_

_**Guilt by Association**_

**Chapter Two:** _No Sympathy for the Stupid, But We're Willing to Help! (Okay. Maybe not.)_

**0o0o0o0o From the PoV of Pansy Parkinson o0o0o0o0**

I haven't been this visibly upset about anything since my father told me he would cut my allowance during our summer stay out our villa on the Italian country side– and all because of a stupid low score I got, courtesy of Professor McGonagall.

Draco Malfoy was, without a doubt, the most inconsiderate prat I have had the misfortune of trying to help! Here I am, taking time out of precious and irreplaceable year as the devastatingly beautiful beauty of Slytherin to put all my effort into try to help his love life then low and behold, he pulls some stunt like this!

Then, he has the personal gall to down right ignore _my_ ranting when I'm displeased with his behavior!

I became Granger's friend for goodness sake! Okay so maybe that turned out to be a good thing and it had nothing to do with Draco–try giving me a bad grand _now, _you old hag!– as Hermione's actually not so bad. Though we _strongly_ disagree about that entire house-elf issue. (I'm **not** doing housework and risking ruining my perfectly good _manicures_...)

We practically became best friends trying to put our own platonic boy-friends together.

I was so sure everything was right: the proper sexual tension was there, both were being so adorably stubborn until finally, I'd thought I'd talked dragon into making the first move.

And when it finally happened, Draco looked positively glowing. You just couldn't catch him in a bad mood! They were practically inseparable and as 'leaders' of their own respective houses, it did wonders for Dumbledore's 'Give house peace of chance!' campaign–seeing to of the most bitter rivals and enemies join together in such a way was enough of an inspiration to anyone.

Then Draco had to go and ruin his relationship, and thus, his happiness, and thus _my_ peace and happiness.

I say peace because said blond is currently front of me right now, angsting all over my room and good carpet as he demands that I help him.

I yawned in a bored fashion before rolling my eyes in annoyance and began to clean my nails with a file.

"Draco darling, you're going to have to speak clear, concise sentences." I teased.

"Weasel and Zabini are up to something! They've put a damper on my relationship with Harr-Potter!" he fumed.

I paused in my finger nail cleaning and gave him a skeptical upward glance through my bangs. "Oh so, that little 'bet' you made with just about ever Slytherin boy in our year had _nothing _to do with it?"

Draco glared at me. "I wouldn't have broken up with Potter if–"

"You'd been serious about him in the first place," I cut him off, bored with the entire ordeal now, pausing to study my perfectly clean nail before moving on to the next one. "You ruined your own love life, then you down right ignored me when I tried to tell you about it. I could really careless about you trying to blame this on others when we both know it's all your fault."

Draco looked flabbergast for a brief moment before he gave this stare that seemed to radiate his displeasure with me? I'm guessing here because I'm not positive. Then it shifted into this down right anger, his eyes narrowing into slits and his lips curling into a tight frown. I ignored him, for the most part, in favor of a perfectly manicured nail until I could literally fell Drake trying to glare a hole through my person and chucking the stupid file away, I patted the cushion by me and rolled my eyes slightly.

As soon as my hand hit the pillow, he practically sat on my hand as he went into his angry rambling.

"Weasley's up to something."

"Do tell." Sarcasm. I love sarcasm. Draco? Not so much unless he's the one dishing it out.

"Are you going to take me seriously Parkinson?" he snapped and I pretended to flinch at his tone. "Oh, resorting to using my last name Drake? Now I am hurt." He didn't looked phased and I sighed. "Alright, alright, what are you going on about with Weasley?"

"He's keeping something from the mud–" I glared at him, my eyes narrowing on the spot and he glared at me in irritation before he continued. "Granger and Po–Harry! Something he doesn't want to tell Harry that has something to do with me!"

"What could he possibly know about you in regards to Harry that could be any worse from what you've already done?" I asked.

"To hell if I know Pansy!" he snapped. "I all know is Weasel said 'He shouldn't tell Harry because it wouldn't make a difference' and 'he deserved better than ferret' meaning, me–and don't you dare agree with him." He added quickly, and with attitude no less, when I opened my mouth to reply.

"Fine, I won't rub salt in the wound–yet." I agreed with a small wave before leaning back on the couch, pulling my legs up underneath me in a more comfortable position. "And you mentioned dear Blaise?"

"Haven't you noticed how he's acting?" Draco fumed, looking as though he had gotten slightly angrier just because I mentioned our best friend–or maybe I was solo in that depart now. "Ever since the dance, he's been all over Potter and he won't tell me any details of their relationship."

"Is he suppose to?" I asked honestly and he glared. "Really Drake: it's none of your business. Not anymore anyway of what his relationship to Harry is. You gave that up, not Blaise."

"He's not suppose to try anything regardless," Draco snapped and I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"You do not try to enter yourself into a romantic relationship with your supposed best friend's ex. How would you feel if I started going out with one of your old flames?" he challenged.

"Depends on said flame," I admitted. "Seeing how you treat your boyfriends, most notably your previous one, I wouldn't want you near my old flames–**_any_** of them."

"You're doing it again," he growled and I rolled my eyes. "Draco dear, what am I so suppose to do? Pretend you just didn't happen to completely shatter a boy's heart for no reason when you all but gave me your word that you were taking this whole relationship seriously? You not only lied to Harry, you lied to Granger but most importantly: you lied to me! And you had the nerve to turn around and use me all the same! You knew what you were planning to do from the start and used Granger and I to get to Harry."

Draco sighed. "Pansy, I didn't–"

"You did," I cut off, matter of factly. "You know, despite our history, Potter was actually a pretty nice boyfriend or dare I say–perfect boyfriend for you. A hell of an improvement from your last entries per say. He actually cared about you and your feelings and you treated him like shit. If he hates you, he's got every right to and you know that."

"I know!" he shouted finally, standing to his feet and beginning to pace and speak with his hands. "Look, I know what I did and damn it–I need to change it!"

I gave him a skeptical look. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice–"

"Pansy!" he growled and I simply stared. "What."

He let out another growl of frustration and I frowned at him. "Do you really except me to just jump on board and help you after all of this? Your only interested in Harry again because Blaise is showing interest. Once again, you're trying to use me to help you for all the wrong reasons."

"I'm not," he insisted with a shake of his head.

"Well you certainly aren't doing it because of some undying love for Harry, because if that were the case, you would have never–"

"You don't understand the situation so stop making assumptions," he snapped bitterly. "Look: I spoke with Granger–"

"Before or after she hit you?"

He glared and I quieted down.

"She told me that the night I was on my rounds, being a prefect and all–"

"Yes, we are all aware that Draco Malfoy is prefect, do continue," I teased and he glared at me yet, again.

"And Zabini was with me. Well we saw Harry, in a classroom, getting fucked into the desk by some Ravenclaw."

I paused beginning to rethink Draco's situation in all this. "Such vulgar language but please continue."

"I brought this to Granger's attention and she told me Harry wasn't even here that night–that he was completely off campus visiting with his godparent's mutt–or whatever he was doing."

I frowned. "So then the Harry you saw was either someone pretending to act like him just to fool you?"

Draco didn't reply, but instead stood up to pace around the room, looking as though he was in heavy thought. "After that, I broke everything off with Potter."

I looked at him curiously. "So what are you telling me Draco? That despite the fact that you'd already made your little plans, you'd put them on hold in favor of your developing feelings for Potter but once you thought he'd cheated on you, went through with it?"

He glanced over at me then looked down at the floor with a scowl. "I was going to do it either way Pansy."

"But Draco, you went out with Potter for more than half of the school year," I pointed out. "And you looked so happy when you were with him–or at least, the happiest I've ever seen you. The two of you were practically inseparable. You ate, slept, and let's face it–lived for Potter. You may be a good actor Drake, but not even you are that good."

His scowl deepened so I continued. "Just admit it: you got hurt when you thought Harry was cheating on you and because you didn't stop to analyze the situation properly and instead reacted in well, a very Draco Malfoy manner, which in this case, was reverting back to your original plan. And speaking of that, why on Earth you would make such a stupid bet with Theo of all people, is beyond me."

"Because at the time, I wasn't serious about Potter," he snapped angrily. "I didn't except that he'd actually make me–"

He paused in mid rant and stormed over to the fire place, deciding not to continue the statement. I took it for what it was worth and acted accordingly. "So you want me to help you get you and Potter back together?"

"No," he snapped quickly. "I want you to help me find out who set me up. I don't need to be in a relationship like that with Harr–Potter."

I raised an eyebrow. "Have you noticed that every time you try to call Harry by his first name, you force yourself to say 'Potter' instead? Or when you do say Potter, you give up and say 'Harry' instead? Don't you find that curious?"

He gave me such a withering look that even I had enough sense to leave it alone–for now.

Though Draco could be so cute when he was all upset about being caught and retreated back into his shelter called 'denial'. More so when he all but already said that he wanted to do exactly what I suggested. But for my own sanity, I won't call him on _that_ right now.

"And how is it, that I may help you Drakey-poo?" I sing-sang finally, even nodding my head from side to side.

Oooo he gave me another withering glare at the nickname and I positively giggled. It was just so easy to get under his skin, how could I resist? He deserved it for all my trouble after all...

**0o0o0o0o From the PoV of Draco Malfoy. Again. o0o0o0o0**

I **_hate! _**Pansy.

She's my best friend, and I love her like a sister.

But I truly do hate her. I really do.

Because other than Harr–Potter–and I'm doing that again which leads me to my point– she's the only other person that can damn near read me like a book. She knows my moods, my thoughts, my emotions most of the time before I've ever said them and I hate her for it. It's hard to hide your feelings from someone that made it an art to know everything about you.

But she's wrong about Potter. She is. I don't love him anymore. Wait. I never did–certainly I grew attached to him, but I didn't/don't/never will love him.

I just hate that I was tricked into acting too soon by a dimwit like Weasel. Or Zabini. Or both, which ever, I don't care, whoever was responsible would feel my wrath.

"_But then, how long were you going to keep up the act Drake?"_ Pansy asked after I explained everything that I wanted her to do.

I didn't answer because I was sick of her stupid questions...and besides, I didn't know _how_.

A few more months? Until the summer? Until I finally got bored with _Potter_–wait–he was interesting in the first place? Of course he was–I couldn't deny that. I loved getting to know him. And I lov–liked it when he smiled.

Po–har–Potarry's got a pretty smile. His eyes just seem to glow and his skin radiates when he smiles. It's contagious and you can't help but feel happy even if you're in the most sour of moods when he smiles at you.

Honestly, I've never seen anything more beautiful than Har..him smiling.

Oh wait, I'm lying. He looked absolutely gorgeous when withering underneath me in pure ecstacy. His eyes would haze over with lust and hunger. His cheeks get the lightest hint of rose and his lips: so deductible when their so red and bruised that they begged to be ravished.

Just thinking about it makes me want to punch something. Damn it! Why didn't I think about the sex! I'd never had such phenomenal, earth shattering, world moving, sex before in my life. That alone should have been more than enough to encourage me not to break up with him!

Oh! And the way he used to mewl when I touched his sweet spot just right, the way he'd throw his head back and pant, crying my name in the flurry of our passion. And good lord, could Harry give head– oh god.

What the hell is wrong with me? I ruined everything! We can't even be friends with _benefits_ now!

I've gone completely off track now but good sex can do that. And even I have to give (sigh) Harry credit. Making a 'sex god' want to fall to their knees and beg for forgiveness just because you give good head alone is no easy feat. (And I'm the sexiest sex god there is, thank you.)

In any case, Pansy and I set our plan under way, speaking for the entire night (though Pansy seemed intent on constantly throwing my feelings for Potter–or what she imagined where my feelings–in my face as we went) and I must say, it is quite a simple yet good plan.

We set said plan into motion this morning: Gryffinwhores won the House Cup, no surprise there. Everyone was all happy and excited as the talked about what they'd do for the summer and keeping in touch.

I ignored them all, waiting anxiously for Pansy, who was taking her sweet damn time eating her toast and conversations with her little group of Slytherin girls before I finally got impatient enough to elbow her in the side. She glared at me before rolling her eyes and snorting "Oh all right!"

She stood up abruptly then sauntered her way over to the Gryffindor table, tapping Neville to move over so she could sit by Granger. I watched as the two began an animated conversation with one another and couldn't help the fleeting thought of why Granger just didn't punch Pansy in face for trying to talk to–hell not even her.

Certainly I already knew the answer but my face was still a little sore. I watched as Pansy asked Granger to come closer before she whispered something in her ear, the bushy haired mud–ggle born glaring at Pansy in pure bewilderment before Pansy motioned for her to calm down and she continued. I watched Weasel glance up from stuffing his face at the pair, Granger than Pansy then back to Granger before shooting a questioning glance at _him_. (It's just Potter Malfoy, get a hold of yourself...)

Harry (Damn it!)only hunched slightly before going back to his breakfast–or rather poking it–you know, he hasn't been eating normally.

He wasn't really eating yesterday at breakfast either, from what I saw and he barely touched dinner either. I felt a pang of guilt nott in my stomach. Maybe I did have more of an effect on him than I thought I did. And more importantly, that fact bothered me more than I knew it should. Yesterday I would have been more than a little happy to know I'd gotten under Harry's (damn) skin but today–and after talking so long to that stupid Pansy...

I stabbed my eggs as I watched Pansy and Granger talk for the next five minutes before laughing, Pansy finally stood up and came back to the Slytherin table. As nonchalantly as I could and without looking, I quietly asked Pansy what Granger said.

Pansy, a smug smirk on her face, grabbed another piece of toast before she turned to me. "She'll try but she promised she at least would meet with us. She refuses to help until she hears the entire story though. And she's only showing up at all to help... me."

Figures. "Understood."

My head shot up when Zabini snorted and I left Pansy to stare at me with interest.

He was reading a small piece of parchment and taking out a small quill pen, he scribbled something down before leaning back and slipping the note to Longbottom, who passed the note to Granger, who rolling her eyes before passing it to Harry (I give up.), scolding him a little about bother her and Neville constantly with 'silly letters' when he could just talk to Blaise. I watched Harry give her a playful hurt expression before he opened the note and read it, bursting into laughing and glancing over at Blaise that gave him a false innocent look and made some kind of stupid 'Jazz Hands' gesture, making him laugh harder.

And at that precise moment, I wanted to stab Blaise hands with my folk.

**0o0o0o0o From the PoV of Hermione Granger. o0o0o0o0**

Oh dear.

I can not believe Pansy has asked me to do this for her. It took all of my self control not to react too emotionally, as she asked me before hand not to draw any 'unwanted' attention to our conversation.

I'm sitting in our carriage now, looking over the beautiful landscape that was the Hogwarts grounds as it took as back to the station where we would board the Hogwarts Express back to platform 9 3/4. I was barely paying attention to Ronald or Harry as they sat across from me, playing a game of exploding snaps as they laughed.

I couldn't help but send Harry a little glance. I was happy to see that he wasn't completely depressed. Ronald had told me when he'd finally come back from where ever he'd gone to when he'd left that Harry was really depressed over what had happened with Draco and woke him up so they could talk.

As a matter of fact, even after Harry assured Ronald it was okay to go back to sleep, Harry confessed to me yesterday evening he hadn't gone to sleep, which was why he was slightly cranky and so sleepy the all day. (Though he got a good two hours of rest in History.)

He hadn't mentioned Draco once, except to congratulate me on a "well executed right hook that would make Ali proud", (Of course, Ronald was confused as he as no clue who or what Mr. Ali is.)and he'd pretty much pretended Draco wasn't around when we went to classes.

Which wasn't too hard for him, what with Ronald seeming to purposely keep him occupied. And Blaise Zabini's sudden interest in all things Harry.

I frowned at the thought as it brought me back to the situation at hand. I can not believe Pansy would remotely ask me to help get Harry and Draco back together after what that ferret had done!

The mere nerve of her astounded me really–Pansy, I have found, though a joy to know, can be quite pushy and demanding.

"_Our hard work can't go to waste!" she insisted. "Draco's not being serious about all this, I know he's not! There's something else going on here and your precious 'Ronald' is in on all this!"_

I had gotten particular sour at her accusing Ron of anything. Not because of my–feelings. But because Ronald would never work against Harry period, especially with the likes of Draco. Or in Pansy's case: Blaise Zabini.

I looked over at Ronald just as he let another snap go off. Certainly he didn't like Malfoy and it was no secret he hated Harry with him. But he would never intentionally try to hurt Harry–he'd seen how fond he was of Malfoy.

I sighed to myself. This entire plan was stupid: I was never going to get Ronald to agree to this. I'm not even certain I want any part of this. Oh Pansy better be right about all this.

It took us another half an hour to get to the train station and gathering our things, we started for our compartment–or at least, Harry did as I grabbed Ronald suddenly by the wrist and made him stop.

He looked back at me confused and so did Harry and I gave Harry a guilty and regretful smile. "I–want to be alone. With Ron. Together. Just us. For something–private?"

Ronald made a face at me as if he was completely shocked but Harry only nodded, this teasing smirk coming across his face as his eyes screamed he knew why I wanted to be alone with him.

Which, not by own fault, wasn't it.

"Mione, I don't think we should Harry alone," Ronald frowned but Harry shook his head, waving a hand. "No Ron, it's cool! Blaise invited me to sit with him anyway so it all works out."

"You've certainly been spending a lot of time talking to Blaise," I suggested and Harry smiled. "He's actually pretty nice now that I've gotten to know him properly. We actually have a lot in common."

"That's...nice," I replied with a weak smile before tugging first on Ronald's arm, then grabbing hold of his hand to drag him further down the train, ignoring a few giggles from our fellow house members. "Have fun Harry, we'll check on you in a bit!"

"Yes mother!" He called back before grabbing his trunk and going in another direction.

"Hermione, what's this about?" Ronald (I rather like his first name but it is easier to say Ron...which is probably why this is his nickname. I can be so...complicated...) asked nervously and I could seeing his cheeks ears turning red–that's such a cute trait he has–as I lead him into a compartment– where Pansy and Draco were already occupying, waiting for us.

Ron became red for an entirely different reason as he balled up his fist instantly and glared at me angrily. "Why are they–"

"Sit!" I instructed sternly, pointing to the seat across from them. He glared at me a moment longer before doing as I asked, slamming down his suitcase on the ground. I pulled mine inside and slid the compart door shut.

"Where's Harry?" Pansy inquired.

"With...Blaise," I admitted and Malfoy looked as though he were ready to hex me just for saying that. "What is Potarry doing with him?"

Ron sneered at him. "What the hell did you just say? "Po-wha?"

Pansy waved him off. "That's his way of trying to convince himself that he can still call Harry by his last name."

It became very silent inside the compartment after this and we all stared at one another, Draco and Ron practically trying to burn holes into one another while Pansy looked from boy to boy in aggravation. I simply watched the entire seen wearily while I played with my hands absently.

Harry might get suspicious or worse–find out what was happening and think we were trying to stab him in the back. But maybe with Zabini in the compartment with him, he probably wouldn't worry about us at all, least of all try coming to find us.

I saw Pansy sigh deeply before she opened the floor with a quiet suggestion, though I wasn't paying full attention to be honest and thus, hadn't heard exactly what she'd said.

"Why should we tell him?" Ron snapped finally, completely bringing me abruptly out of my thoughts as he glared at Malfoy. "It's not going to make any difference to Harry. Ferret was out to hurt Harry all along, all Zabini did was speed up the process."

Pansy looked triumphant and Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Works every time on an idiot."

Ron looked confused at them as I glared at him. "So you do know something about Blaise that I didn't!" Ron looked guilty for all of two seconds before he flared up again. "It's not important Hermione! Besides, it's not like Harry is going to care one way or the other!"

"And what exactly is this 'information' that Harry won't care about?" Pansy demanded, tapping her foot on the floor as the train jerked into movement, crossing her arms over her chest. Ron stubbornly looked at the floor and I jabbed him on his side with two fingers. "Ronald!"(I call him that when he's angered me as well.)

"Fine–fine!" he sighed in frustration, Malfoy glaring hatefully at him. He folded his own arms over his chest and began to ramble of an explanation in a less than enthused tone. "Blaise blackmailed Seamus into pretending he was Harry, Harry-Seamus slept with that bloke from Ravenclaw, Draco stopped pretending and became the asshole we all love to hate and now Blaise is trying to get in Harry's pants, how's that?" he finished, glaring at me.

I frowned. "Did you have to be so–"

"I knew it!" Malfoy snapped, throwing something he had been holding in his hands to the floor. I jumped as it shattered and Ron scowled at him. "Hey! That could have hit me you know!"

"That little shit–!" Draco snarled angrily. "He tricked me! He set me up!"

"Drake baby, calm down" Pansy cooed, taking of hold of Draco's hand and squeezing it, patting him on the back in a comforting manner to get the blond to settle down. "We'll deal with this–we will!" she insisted when he glared at her. "We'll just have to come up with something–"

"For _what_?" Ron snapped, glaring at Draco. "He went out of his way literally, to hurt Harry just for a few quick laugh at his expense Why should we," he pointed to himself and me rapidly before he continued. "Help him? He's the same careless, prejudiced, selfish, idiotic, pasty- faced bloody prat we've always known."

"But he's also the same careless, prejudiced, selfish, idiotic, pasty-faced bloody prat that loves**_ Harry Potter_**," Pansy insisted, ignoring Draco's insulted glare her way and Ron looked at her as though she'd grown another head. " Oh? And when did _that_ start? Sounds more like_ jealousy_ to me! "Oh poor me, Harry's world wasn't devastated and now he might be interested in my best mate! Oh why won't the world stop spinning yet? Boo hoo!'"

"Shut up Weasel," Malfoy snapped angrily but anyone that had ever known Ron knew that when he was on a roll...he stayed on that roll.

"Why should I, prat?" he snapped, eyes flashing. "I never liked you with Harry in the first place! I knew from the start that you hadn't really changed, that you never really _would_ change! I was the president and C.E.O.," he turned to look at me. "C.E.O.?"

I nodded.

"C.E.O. of you not being with my best mate while everyone else wanted to pretend you were some turn around saint and what? What! Just because your little plan blew up in your face I'm suppose to feel sorry for you–and you can forget help you cause you can go rot for all I care. Face it: everyone hates you, those who weren't fooled by your little act still hates you, and thank Merlin cause now Harry couldn't give a warlock's ass about you."

We all sat there staring at him and Draco only narrowed his eyes. "Are you quite finished with your tirade Weasel?"

"Other than: 'I say we leave well enough alone'?" Ron retorted sarcastically. "Yep. All done, ferret face."

Pansy rolled her eyes at both of them and I sighed deeply.

"I don't like this either Ron but think about it," I began, looking over at him. "Blaise is no better than Malfoy if he resorted to blackmail and tricky just to break Harry and Malfoy up. We shouldn't want him with Zabini either."

"I don't," Ron admitted, rounding on me. "He's just as selfish. But the point is: he broke them _up_."

We all glared at him and he rolled his eyes. "Fine. But he only did what Draco was going to do in the first place. So as far as I'm concerned, it served a good purpose whereas ferret here only sole purpose was to hurt Harry from the start. Which one is worse to you?"

Malfoy stood up from his seat. "If I had known what Blaise was going to do, I never would have–"

"What? Made Harry think you actually cared about him?" Ron snapped. "Cause if I remember the story right, you'd already started doing that before Blaise tricked you!"

"I never would have broken up with Harry in the first place!" Draco screamed in fury before clamping his mouth shut, looking as alarmed as though he'd said far too much. He quickly turned away from the entire compartment, glaring out of the window as Pansy beamed with triumph for the second time, bouncing slightly in her seat.

Really, a Slytherin bouncing. It was...odd to watch. She calmed herself down, giving me a 'I told you so' look before standing up and masking her face in sympathy, touching Draco's shoulder. "Go on Dray. Just...let it all out. We'll understand."

Ron snorted and rolled his eyes and I glared at him before I watched Draco. He glared over at Pansy before sighing in frustration and pulling away from her, plopped down in his seat again.

"I'll admit it. I didn't have any intention of being serious about Potter at all. I was annoyed with you and Granger constantly trying to set us up. Then Nott thought it would be great fun to use your lack of matchmaking skills–"

"Lack?" both I and Pansy questioned insulted.

"Lack," he restated firmly. "Of matching skills to my advantage. A few boys in my year–including Zabini– bet that I wouldn't actually be able to get Harry to like me, let alone get him in bed. And a Malfoy doesn't turn down a challenge."

"A Malfoy is also a heartless bastard but hey? Who's keeping track?" Ron snorted sarcastically and we all glared at him. Though I had to silently commend him. Ron was coming up with some rather witty comebacks today.

"And at first, it was fun, watching Harry stubbornly fall for me–who wouldn't–shut up Weasel," he warned as Ron opened his mouth to retort. "But then–"

"– you actually got to know Harry for the caring, sweet, good hearted young man he is and realized that you yourself had fallen in love with him when you weren't suppose to care at all." I announced, cutting him off with a wave of my hand. "A story that's been done quite often, in real life and movies."

"Movies?" Ron and Malfoy asked confused and Pansy spoke up. "Muggle picture films."

"Don't worry about it," I snapped when I realized they still didn't get it. "The point is Draco, I'm still not certain that we should help you after what you've done."

"I messed up Granger, I get it," he snapped exasperated.

"No, I don't think you do," Ron snapped back coldly. "You don't know Harry like Hermione and I do."

Malfoy snorted. "I don't know Harry like you and Granger? I know Harry better than you and Granger!"

"Do you?" Ron challenged and I held up my hands. "It doesn't matter who knows who better than who! Either way, it's not going to be easy, even if we were to help you Draco!"

"She's right" Pansy sighed, crossing her legs and leaned back in her seat, watching all of us in a calculating manner. "Harry's got every reason to hate you, as I've expressed to before, if not more so than he had."

"And trust is a big issue in any relationship," I agreed. "In your case, the situation is even worse: You and Harry never got along in the first place."

"Thanks to Weasel," Malfoy spat, glaring at Ron.

"Thanks to you being a bloody prick," Ron fired back, fuming.

"For whatever reason, you hated each other for the past fifteen years before you decided it would be fun to play with Harry's heart," Pansy snapped, holding her hand up to cut the fussing boys off.

"You have to understand that despite everyone–and I mean practically my entire house including a select few from others–were against you and Harry dating from the start because...well..."

"You're a bloody prick–just call him a prick Mione. You always said telling the truth makes you feel good inside," Ron stated in a chipper manner and I glared at him to shut up before I continued.

"Look: Despite everything that Harry as been through in the past Draco, he is a person that is willing to trust just about anyone–once. However, with you, for obvious reasons, he was very reluctant to trust you, let alone actually think you may have changed for the better.

"But despite his own doubts, he was willing to give you a chance. And because of that chance, he ended up leaving his heart wide open to you. And you, for lack of better words, stumped all over it and threw it back up in his face in the worst possible way."

I sighed. "And once you loose trust with Harry, it's nearly impossible to earn it back Draco. If you know him a fraction of the way you claim to, you should already know why."

He adverted his eyes and Pansy sighed, giving a loud 'shoot'!

"Because of your stupid ego, we're not even at square one with this relationship–it's going to take _Dumbledore_ himself to get Harry to trust someone he never really trusted in the first place! Besides, Harry seems to be genuinely interested in Zabini now."

The compartment was quiet and Draco looked as though he was sulking. Pansy smiled at him. "No worries Dray. Hermione and I got you together before, we can do it again."

Ron snorted and I elbowed him in the side. "I'm sure we can get Harry to come around."

"But why do we want to?" Ron grumbled, still glaring at Draco and I glared at him. "Ron, this isn't about you or your dislike for Draco–or anyone else's for that matter. It's about what's best for Harry!"

"All the more reason not to let this prat anywhere near him!" Ron insisted.

There was a heavy silence again and Ron and Draco began to stare one another down as Pansy and I waited anxiously to see if we'd have to break up a fight or if we'd have to continue sitting here in discomfort.

It was the latter, at least for the next several minutes before Ron finally sighed slightly in defeat next me, grumbling incoherently while Draco shifted in his seat and began to cuss Ron under his breath.

"Then it's settled?" Pansy asked, faking to be timid as she glanced around hopefully. That tone that didn't suit her in my opinion. She's usually so haughty. "We'll**_ all_** help Draco and Harry get back together?"

"Who said I wanted to–"

"Shut up," she snapped at Draco viciously, making the teen jump back before she calmed down just as quickly, smoothing her skirt.

"Now we're all getting a little sick of this little play you're trying to put on Dray." she began in a professional tone. "You either want to get back together with Harry–for the right reasons. Or you don't and we've just been sitting here wasting our time. Or you're once again trying to use us for some stupid prank of yours."

She leaned over to him, giving him a dangerous glare. "And Pansy Parkingson is not one to be toyed with Draco Malfoy. Now I forgave you because I honestly believe deep down, you really do have the best of interest at heart. Don't prove me wrong. I'd hate to have to hurt you Dray. I real-_ly_ would."

Malfoy glared at her in a challenging manner and when she didn't seem phased in the least he gave a surrendering sigh and sunk lower in his seat. "Now: Admit you actually love Harry."

"I don't love him," Draco snapped angrily before sulking again and sighing. "I...care deeply about him but I do **not** love him."

She gave a flashy smile before patting him on the back. "Good enough." Then she turned to us. "So, are we all on board then?" She flashed an encouraging smile Ron's way then mine and I glanced over at Ron, who stubbornly sat there with his arms crossed, glaring at each of us.

Pansy frowned but I patiently awaited his answer–or outburst.

"I don't like this Hermione." Calm. Quiet. Matter of fact. At least he wasn't screaming.

I gave him a sympathetic smile. "I know."

"He doesn't deserve him Hermione."

I nodded. "I know."

"And he's such an _ugly_ , pointy nosed ferret, Hermione."

"I'm sitting right here, you damn–" Draco began before Pansy placed her hand over his mouth.

Ron looked over at me, frowning. "So then why are we helping him Hermione."

I gave a little sigh. "Because you and I both know that Harry's good at hiding his feelings and that he must miss Draco terribly. He's only able to avoid them because of all the attention Blaise is giving him but I don't believe Harry's interest is genuine. He and Draco: they were close Ron–and we both know that Harry loved him, if he doesn't still love him. He's confused and hurt right now and he's already lost so many people he's cared about in his life, for whatever reason. And Draco did make him so happy– to the point that he wouldn't have cared if the entire world had fallen apart around him as long as he could be with him... even if we all hate that he can do that for him."

"Who's side are you on Granger!" I heard Draco's muffled shout from behind Pansy's hand.

"We have to try Ron–for Harry. If they're not meant to be, then they just won't be and we can give up. But we have to make sure–we have to try. We owe it to Harry as his friends."

Ron glared at me for several minutes before he shot Malfoy a side glance, still glaring at him in mistrust. "How do we know you're any more serious than you were last time Malfoy? How are we suppose to know that you just won't use us to try and hurt Harry again?"

"If I wasn't serious, would I have come to **_you_**," he sneered. Ron and I looked at one another. Okay, maybe he would have come to me. But not Ronald. **_Never_** Ron.

We silently waited for Ron's verdict–five minutes to be exact–before my (He will be, really!) towering red head sighed deeply and slumped down further in his seat in defeat.

"We have all summer," he sighed. "To find a way to get Harry to talk to you, nevermind snog you."

He shuddered at the thought and Pansy clapped her hands together in victory while Draco looked from me to Ron before glancing back out of the window in heavy thought. I myself smiled. "Then we'd certainly better get started. And we'll start by thinking of a way to properly reestablish Draco as a 'positive' factor in Harry's life."

"And getting Dray to say 'Harry' again!" Pansy called. "Because he's driving me crazy with that."

"Yeah," Ron and I replied in unison as the three of us glared at Malfoy. He in turn, simply raised a middle finger at us he scowled out the window, never turning to face us.  
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**Author's Notes:  
**_Thanks for reading, more to come!_ _Leave feedback if you'd like!_


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